


Personal Butler

by momoch1



Category: No Straight Roads (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, M/M, NJ and 1010 are only mentioned as well with a little bit of Momo in there for fun, and it's rated T for Tension bc hoo mama, but we are here for some butler action with Ian, come get yalls juice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-13
Updated: 2020-10-13
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:22:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26993602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/momoch1/pseuds/momoch1
Summary: Yall REALLY like Ian huh? Well come get yalls juice.
Relationships: Reader/Original Character, reader/oc
Comments: 3
Kudos: 26





	Personal Butler

You worked a very, very long shift at work at the Barraca Mansion. 1010 may always seem camera ready and classy on camera, but the moment those doors close to the front entrance and the cameras are closed they cause HAVOC. Red and Yellow are quick to cause trouble with stupidly dangerous pranks that Green sadly gets roped into. White sometimes joins in but most of the time he has to pull them apart from anything too reckless if he isn’t in the center of it. Blue, being the only smart one, stays on the sidelines but silently eggs them on with their tomfoolery while Neon J shouts orders at them to stop and do literally anything else and a smaller human whom they dub their ‘vice admiral’ with thick glasses stomps behind him to pick up any loose parts with a stern expression. Either way, the mansion is almost always trashed. Who has to clean it up? You, sadly, but you are not alone.

Another robot, towering over even any of the 1010 boys and your boss Neon J, swiftly makes work of the mess with a broom almost always at the ready. You can’t exactly remember what his whole ‘name’ was for it was mainly numbers and letters jumbled together for his serial number, but he decided that he would be named ‘Ian’ by the non-robotic company present as well in the mansion. Compared to the colorfully loud boy band and their extremely stern and bright boss, Ian always had a calm composure with a softer glow to him due to his lack of neon lights and being an older model, so you were told by him. He always had his eyes closed, yet he saw everything and anything the boys did even before they committed their crimes as he swiftly grabs a minimalistic vase out of the way as Red playfully (yet strongly) shoved White into the general direction and knocking over the podium, which Ian quickly grabbed before it toppled over and put back upright. It’s a miracle he hasn’t lost patience with the young metallic men yet.

The night was young and the now fully-charged neon colored soldiers lined up once more as Neon J, going without their vice admiral due to the hour, out the door to their next party/concert. The rest of the crew give their bows and salutes and all relax the moment the large steel door silently clicks and locks with loud sighs. All except Ian, who stands upright with his usual soft expression despite now being able to relax due to the masters of the house being away from causing more trouble. He really is one hell of a butler…

You drag your way to one of the many empty rooms in the mansion. It may be huge, but what do five robots do with a large mansion when they really only use a maximum of 3 of the rooms? Well, that’s where the rest of the crew stays. Mechanics, janitors, party planners, ect.. They all live on-site just in case they are needed immediately rather close to Neon J’s personal office and living quarters, the vice admiral being the door right next to his that he seems to visit often. Possibly for planning the next events and other business things, but it is rather odd that they meet in what is their sleeping quarters. You mind your business on the matter, however, and head past it to the large library they have with a personal tea kettle and a sandwich to relax since you are now off the clock. No need to think about your bosses now that they’re out and asleep.

You open the large doors to the library, expecting it to be dark due to the lights not being on and it not getting used as often except by Neon J who occasionally goes in for files and to read old books they keep from days gone by long ago. Surprisingly, the room is lit with a low warm glow from some of the desk lamps being on. You stand stiffly in the middle of a bookcase as you listen around and hear what sounds like the sound of metal being muffled by the carpet underneath you, the soft grinding sound of metal, and a low, harmonious hum near where the light source is. You relax as you recognize that it was Ian, not the Yellow soldier trying to play another terrifying prank and baiting you with the lights being on to turn it off and being yelled at from an ear-shattering octave from behind. Again. They may have left, but you also remember they have a factory to make more at the ready and did it once before they were banned altogether from touching it from Neon J. You shudder at the memory.

You walk towards the desk and clear your throat loud enough just for Ian to recognize your presence. Ian, dusting books left untouched with a feather duster, doesn’t look at you and instead gives his usual ‘good evening’ with a gentle, warm tone. He already detected that you were in the library the moment you touched the handle. He WAS a tactical soldier before he was remodeled, after all, so it makes sense that he ‘felt’ you enter the library long before you even recognize you weren’t alone.

“Here to relax as well, young master?”

Wow. That was a punch in the chest. ‘Young master’? You flush at the comment for he never called anyone ‘master’ except for the rightful ones of the house. Must be him being the gentleman that he is and not knowing what to call you since you’re rather new to the force. You respond with a semi-shaky ‘yes’ as you compose yourself and set the tray down with the still-hot small kettle of tea and sandwich on the desk and sit near one of the reclining chairs. Ian stops his dusting as he hears the tray clack on the desk and ‘looks’ over at you with his lidded closed eyes, his long eyelashes teasing you due to how lush they are compared to yours.

“You could have said that you were peckish. I could have made you a proper meal,” Ian spoke, his usual warm tone filling the empty stuffy air with comfort. “It’s important to eat a fitting meal so late in the hour other than a sandwich and some tea.”

Ian gently places the feather duster on the closest desk to him as he strode over to you at a steady pace. You tried not to focus your attention on it, but the way his hips swayed with each step due to how wide they were and how long his strides were kept you fixated and not responding as he approached you. The light danced on his shining black body as well, the low glow from his neon highlights keeping your attention on how his shoulders and chest moved, contouring his every step. Damn, it was kind of hot. You will never say it out loud ever however. He’s your co-worker, after all. How awkward.

It got even more awkward as he got close enough to you and he gingerly picked up the small kettle to pour you a hot cup of tea, not looking up as he is used to with his ‘butlering smile’ he always had plastered on his smooth, silicon-covered face. The contouring lines on his cheeks were deep and gave the impression of defined cheekbones that left you having to swallow a lump in your throat. His hair also looked very refined and not a single synthetic follicle was out of place as his eyelashes caressed his cheeks underneath his bangs. You never were so close to him and realized it all, but damn are you glad that you are now. He’s gorgeous. You admit it.

Ian looks up after pouring you a cup of tea and placing the kettle down carefully. He actually opened his narrow eyes to look at you. You. He doesn’t even do that with Neon J when he’s being serious. His gaze is as soft as the rest of his expression as he gives his gentle smirk, his irises glowing brighter than the rest of him an off-white. He is really reeling you in as your heart beats faster until you realize something.

Behind his soft expression, you can see the stress of working behind his eyes constantly and having to be the ‘strong’ one for the crew to be the one always ready for anything the ‘masters’ of the house throw at him. Your expression firms from it being flustered to concerned and Ian detected it, his soft smile becoming straight as he closed his eyes again.

“You’re perceptive. You really are,” Ian sighs, a rare sound in itself. It was robotic and warbled in the small space between the two of you as it tugged at your heartstrings. He was very exhausted as he let his normally squared shoulders relax and his head hang a little lower as his face loosened up.

Ian stood up straight, but his shoulders remained relaxed as he strode over to a similar recliner and sat his tall figure into the deep cushions with a ‘fwump’ due to sheer exhaustion. He props an elbow on the smaller chair as his other arm hangs off the other armrest, back to the chair. What really sends you is how he spreads his legs as he relaxed his gears fully in the recliner. He looked so vulnerable and open and… very attractive, sitting in the chair. You couldn’t help but wander your eyes over his silhouette as he let out a comfortable ‘hum’ from his vocal box which sent a shiver up and down your spine. Don’t lose composure now…

Ian clears his throat with a staticy growl as he looks over to you to say something. He stops short, however, for he catches you glaring him down hungrily and you quickly snap your neck back to your sandwich, trying to deflect the fact you got caught and taking a huge bite. You don’t dare look back at him as you take a shaky sip of your tea, but you feel his glowing gaze looking deep into the profile of your face. You also sense a slight air of smugness coming from his direction. Oh no.

“Interesting,” Ian states warmly, “to think you would be like this when all I did was relax.” His voice was low, almost teasing. You swallow your tea hard. You hear him shift in his chair as his joints click. He’s now sitting up in the chair, his chin resting on the palm of the hand that he had propped up as he looks deeper into you with a knowing smirk.

“I’m deeply honored, young master.”

You choke on another bite of your sandwich. Direct hit.

Ian lets out a low robotic chuckle that filled the dimly-lit library tense with longing. You were sweating bullets at this point, and it wasn’t from how hot the tea was. Suddenly you hear him shifting in his seat again, but it wasn’t him adjusting his posture. No.

He got up and is walking towards you.

You can barely hold the teacup in your hands anymore for your hands are shaking intensely as you try to avoid having what was left inside of it from burning your hands. Well, you were already burning up, but you didn’t want any physical evidence of your thoughts being shown.

Ian looms over your smaller frame still in the recliner from behind, a large hand resting on top of the seat next to your head as the other reaches to grab the trembling cup in your hand. The moment his silicon-covered hand touched yours you almost dropped the cup completely. Luckily for you, Ian already predicted that and grabbed it swiftly while it was still in your hand. His palm held both your hands and the cup comfortably as your head started to fill with empty fuzzy thoughts as he somehow managed to avoid you getting burned by the tea. Ian tuts tauntingly as he looks down at your small hands, leaning down low enough for you to see his face without having to look up at his tall frame.

“Clumsy, I see. Can’t have you pour your own tea with shaking hands like this, now can we? Allow me.”

He gingerly lifts the cup out of your weak grasp and removes his hand that was resting near your head to pour you another aromatic cup. You’re swimming in the low lighting that he gives off as the smell of the floral-scented tea, which was light when you first walked in the library now suddenly intoxicatingly strong, fills your lungs and mind. You try to distract yourself by grabbing what was left of your sandwich and shoving it into your mouth to keep you from doing anything stupid. Foolish move.

Ian looks down at your embarrassed composure with a hitched eyebrow and a content grin which he quickly wipes away as he places the matching kettle down on the tray with a gentle ‘clack’. The next thing he does causes the wind to knock out of your body as he gets down on one knee and offers you the eloquent teacup, wisps of steam flickering from the top of it as it causes the strong glow from his now-opened eyes to dance and smear in your clouded vision. He was looking at you at eye level and only you in a way nobody has ever seen. You may pass out.

Well, you almost do as he balances one hand the cup and the other to grab one of your hands. He uncurls your palm and places the dainty cup in your fingers to hold it and moves to grab the other one to wrap your palm around the base of the cup. He gives your hands with the teacup in yours a gentle squeeze to signal that he is going to let go as the warmth fills your body from the piping hot cup of tea. The shaking in your hands stopped miraculously, but you couldn’t look down to notice for you were too busy looking up at him. And he at you.

Ian carefully examined your face and his eyes stopped on something on your cheek. You were really desperate to try and hide your embarrassment with that sandwich for you left mayonnaise smudged on it. A low chuckle rises from his voice box as he wipes your soft cheek with a careful thumb, your eyes wide as the distance between the two of you was extremely small so he could clean you off. You held your breath with a clenched jaw so tight you thought you heard your molars crack behind your head as your face felt on fire at the very touch of his cool hand on your warm flesh.

“A messy eater too. What am I to do with you, young master?” Ian teased in a low tone as he wiped your face clean with his thumb, slowly standing up as you followed his face upwards with your gaze. You tried to bring the cup up smoothly to your lips to do something, but the moment he licked his finger of the residue you immediately bit your tongue. He was smart to do it without looking at you for he knew you were looking at him and it would cause you to pass out, tea all over the chair, floor, and you. A small chuckle rise again from his chest as he looked at the large clock on the wall.

“It seems that I am eating away at your personal time alone,” Ian jested. “I shall leave you to your thoughts now. I offer my biggest thanks for letting me spend some of your limited free time from your busy schedule with me, however.”

Ian looks down at you again with lidded eyes and a playful smirk as he picks up the plate the sandwich was on from the tray. To your surprise, he turns back to you and gives a deep bow with his free hand behind his back. He’s back in butler mode again. Well, he was until he returned his hand in front of him and lifted your chin so you are looking up directly at him to finish speaking.

“Shall I care for you again another time, young master? It would be my honor…”

You spilled some tea on your shirt as he left in stride out the large doors you came in some time ago. It was lukewarm at that point, but your body was so hot that you didn’t even feel it. In fact, you didn’t care at all. You sat there with the teacup still in hand in the same position he left you in as warm tea dripped over your hands and on your lap.

He really WAS one hell of a butler...

**Author's Note:**

> follow my art for more headassery @momoch1_doodles


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